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The Renegade(218)

By:Jack Whyte


“Sir James! You startled me.” He had completely lost sight of the fact that the veteran knight was now the castellan of Lochmaben and had thought him long departed with the other knights.

“Aye, I can see that. I didna mean to.” Jardine stepped back, giving Bruce room to come in and close the door. “I’ve been thinkin’ about what was said here earlier an’ came to talk to ye, but ye werena here, and I was just about to go lookin’ for ye. D’ye hae a minute or two to talk?”

“Of course.” Bruce smiled. “Better yet, though, will you join me in the den for a toddy? The fire should be going by now, and if it is the kettle should be hot.”

They sat by the fire for a while in companionable silence, sipping at their drinks and staring into the flames, before Jardine came out with what was on his mind.

“I can let ye hae fower hunnert men. Jardines and Dinwiddies. For your task.”

“Four hundred? My God … But why? I’ve already said you don’t need to.”

“I ken. But it’s the thing to do. The right thing, I think. No’ because o’ duty to the English, God knows, nor even yet to your faither—mair for your grandfaither, God rest his soul. He thought well o’ you and he wouldna hae let ye leave Annandale wi’out support o’ some kind. Ye’ll ride wi’ Jardines, just as he did himsel’ … But I’m noticing the size o’ these wee cups. Mine’s empty already.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Bruce murmured, smiling crookedly. “But they’re as easily filled as emptied.” He took both cups and went to the fire, where he measured and mixed the ingredients carefully while Jardine watched him.

“Something’s troublin’ ye,” the older man said shrewdly. “Was I wrong to make that offer?”

“What? No, by God’s holy teeth, that’s not what I was thinking at all … ” He folded the scorched old pad over the kettle’s handle and lifted it off the coals, then carefully poured hot water into each cup. “You’re right in thinking something’s troubling me, but it has nothing to do with your offer. I appreciate that more than you could imagine, but as I said earlier, I think I have enough men of my own to do what has to be done at Douglas.” He paused, frowning.

“But ye’re still no’ sure about somethin’, am I right?”

Bruce pursed his mouth. “Aye, you are. But I don’t know why and that makes it even worse. It’s … It’s in my mind that I’m being used here, for some reason, and it makes me … uneasy. And I’m not even sure why I should think so … ”

“Hmm. Well, here’s as good a place as any on earth to talk about it, right here in your grandsire’s den, where you and me hae both heard him talk about such things for years.” He paused, then went on. “Ye’re here on Edward’s business, are ye no’?” He watched Bruce nod and raised his cup. “Then ye’re bein’ used.”

He inhaled the fragrant vapour, then held the bowl of the cup in both hands, gazing into it. “There’s no’ a doubt o’ that in my mind.” His eyes moved back to the young earl. “Nor should there be in yours. Edward o’ England uses everybody to get what he wants. It seems to me, then, that what ye hae to decide is just how ye’re bein’ used … And to what ends. An’ what the costs o’ that might be to you in times to come. Have ye thought on that?”

“Aye. There’s been little else in my mind for the past two days.”

“Why? What happened twa days ago?”

Bruce sucked air between his teeth, a short, sibilant sound. “I met with the Englishmen sent from Berwick with the siege engines. I’d met their commander before, in Berwick, on my way up here, but there was nothing then that troubled me. Now there is. Something changed in the interim.”

“And ye think it has somethin’ to do wi’ Edward?”

“I know it has. No question of that. What I don’t know is the how or why of it. Do I suddenly find myself mistrusting Edward? No, not at all. Edward is Edward. I trust him well enough and I accept him for what he is. But he’s set a guard on me for some reason. A cleric called Benstead, a younger brother, I am told, of a man called John Benstead whom Edward has appointed to some position of importance. This priest is a loathsome slug, and Edward has seen fit to appoint the man as watchdog of some kind to keep an eye on me.” He took a sip of his drink. “Edward has a passion for keeping clerics hard at work recording everything that happens around him, but now he has extended that need to cover me, it appears, and I have this creature hovering by me every time I turn around.”